


the lights of the town are shining now

by xdandelionxbloomx



Series: Song Prompts That Got a Little Out of Control [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, they're a softe pirate crew, this originally came from a song prompt for fun and it got a bit long for tumblr, this turned into a drabble so here's a pirate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22528258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xdandelionxbloomx/pseuds/xdandelionxbloomx
Summary: It was moments like these that the White Wolf looked more like the man he was than the myth that spread across the coasts.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Song Prompts That Got a Little Out of Control [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620877
Comments: 18
Kudos: 488





	the lights of the town are shining now

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a song prompt by a lovely anon on my blog called Butterfly Anon! They requested a different song (I hope it's okay I didn't use the lyrics from that shanty specifically, I just had This Image as soon as you said pirate!AU and shanties) but I needed something that would sound like a BOP on the mandolin. 
> 
> Anyhow, this got a bit long to post on tumblr so I figured I'd drop it here. Enjoy! I'll probably end up with a few more of these eventually.

It was moments like these that the White Wolf looked more like the man he was than the myth that spread across the coasts. 

The captain of the small vessel he simply called Roach - Jaskier thought it was a terrible name, but it wasn’t his ship - leaned up against the post of a rickety shack up against the coast. 

Geralt was wearing a simple black shirt, worn nearly charcoal, with some fly front trousers as he was fond of. His hair had been pulled back from his face - but only the parts that might fall in his face. Jaskier - as usual - had the terrible urge to tie a bow in the part of the hair that had been tied up. 

Jaskier’s outfit was far more elaborate - and more telling. Not everyone had access to silks in this economy, but no one blinked after Geralt let him aboard - though Jaskier had a feeling that in some ways they’d all been saved by Geralt in one way or another. 

Jaskier found his attention torn away from Geralt’s honey-gold eyes by Ciri’s shout - 

“Jaskier!” It was bright and lovely and Jaskier had never felt happier than in that moment, on a break for a couple of days on the shore of a tiny coastal town that partied every night like they may not wake the next morning. “Stop looking about with your head in the clouds! Play, damn you!” But the young woman was laughing brightly, no fire to her words. Her laughter took years off of her, made the scar on her cheek almost invisible with the joy she exuded. 

“Oh, it’s to be like that, is it?” Jaskier shouted back, and strummed at his mandolin simply for the noise. Ciri grinned and grabbed the hand of one of the maidens that had most likely escaped her father’s clutches to come dance with the crew for the night. She blushed a bright red and Jaskier raised his brows at the young woman who winked a bright green eye at him before turning her attention to her partner. 

Jaskier’s fingers launched into a jaunty tune, as he grinned until his cheeks ached - 

“ _ Look how the lights of the town - The lights of the town are shining now. Tonight I'll be dancing around--”  _ Jaskier leaned into the music, his feet unable to stay still, carrying him towards the dancing, raising his voice to be heard over the shuffle of feet on the dock and the pleased shouts. 

It was easy to lose himself in the spinning, in the dancing - this was true happiness. Almost perfect. 

_ Almost _ . 

Jaskier made his way through the crowd towards their captain where he still stood to the side, simply watching. 

_ “There's fine sailors walking the town and waiting to meet the ladies there - watch now he'll soon be along. He's finer than any sailor so--”  _ Jaskier raised his brows, circling around the man and nudging his elbow against Geralt’s. It was a clear indicator to join the fun. 

Geralt shook his head minutely, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. Ah, Jaskier almost had him. He stood in front of him, singing brightly and leaning into his space with the chanting of the chorus - 

Geralt rolled his eyes and shoved at Jaskier’s chest a little, pushing him back. The man pushed off the post, though, and Jaskier made a pleased noise between the words, following Geralt as he wandered towards the gathering. Jaskier danced around him as he did, bumping his side and back against the captain’s playfully. 

Geralt looked tempted to knock him on his ass despite the slow smile that was softening his features into something that Jaskier could write ballads about. 

Geralt had always been light on his feet, but it was an entirely different thing to see him  _ dancing _ . Yennefer grabbed him into one and he spun even more gracefully than in a swordfight and Jaskier’s fingers nearly stumbled over the strings. 

In the low light he was  _ beautiful _ , his buckwheat blonde hair that had been bleached ash by the sun whipping about him as he gave in. 

+++

The mandolin had been abandoned in the corner of the pub, leaning up against the wall. 

Half the village it seemed had fallen asleep draped over chairs and the floor, exhausted from their dancing. Jaskier’s throat felt raw from the work and yet he wasn’t ready to turn in for the night, and he noted the absence of Ciri - she was obviously enjoying herself. 

Jaskier pursed his lips when Geralt dropped himself down on the stool next to him. 

“Are you not tired?” The captain asked him, tipping his head to the side. A few strands of that infuriatingly long hair fell into his face. Jaskier’s fingers itched to push it back. 

The musician’s fingers tightened around his glass, humming in the back of his throat. “Not really.” He murmured, voice just slightly rough around the edges. 

“Hm.” Geralt turned his gaze away, letting it wander over the space behind the counter. Jaskier didn’t expect anything else so the - “Neither am I.” Surprised him. 

“You were surprisingly good at dancing.” Jaskier finally gathered himself up a little, plastering a weak smile on his lips though it was nearly lost when the captain looked at him again. 

“Take a walk with me.” Geralt’s voice was gruff - it would have sounded like a demand to anyone else. Jaskier knew better, though. He could refuse if he wanted. 

He didn’t want to refuse, was the thing. He hardly ever did when it came to Geralt. “Alright.” Jaskier murmured, finished off the drink in his glass before sliding to his feet. 

They wandered into the cool air outside together - it was that strange handful of hours between just after midnight before dawn in a time where it felt like things could be unreal if one wished. Jaskier had written a song about it a long, long time ago when he lived within crumbling stone walls and dreamed of adventure. 

“You are good for them.” Geralt spoke as they wandered down towards the docks, his gaze wandering over the vague shapes of boats in the dim light, the way the sails blocked out the stars. “And me.” He added, slower, more reluctantly. He hadn’t wanted to say that aloud, but the fact that he did make Jaskier’s heart stumble over itself. He smiled shakily. 

“Oh, good. I wasn’t imagining it, then. I did think you smiled a bit more than you used to - I’m telling you Geralt, you ought to let me write some proper music about your adventures. They could be hits. They’d love you if you could get to know you.” 

He always said more than he intended when he spoke to Geralt and he swallowed, looking away. 

Geralt merely grunted a soft sound and Jaskier could feel the gaze settle on him, the hair at his nape prickling with the weight of it. 

“You’re a good man.” Jaskier managed, rolling his shoulders and tucking his hands together behind his back to keep them firmly to  _ himself _ . 

“I’m not.” Geralt said, and a large  _ warm _ hand wrapped around his elbow. He pulled Jaskier to a stop and the musician’s breath caught as he turned to look at him. 

“I don’t think you get to decide that, Geralt.” Too bold and yet, like always, Jaskier hurtled reckless into it headfirst. “We all see ourselves in our worst lights. All of us. We simply have to try our best - and in my experience, in the experience of everyone on your ship, you are  _ good _ . I don’t even want to begin talking about your core - I have  _ never _ met a man that cares as much as you do.” He murmured, and ignored the breathless note in his voice. 

Geralt’s hand squeezed his elbow gently, searching Jaskier’s expression. 

The musician wasn’t sure what he was looking for, merely stood still and let Geralt take him in. Whatever it was Geralt was looking for, he found some semblance of it because the hand on his elbow went slack and Geralt’s expression turned terribly soft around the edges in a way that made it feel like it was hard to breathe. 

The captain’s free hand reached up to cup Jaskier’s cheek, the calluses scratchy. It was oddly pleasing and Jaskier struggled to keep his composure. It was a losing battle, though, and he turned his head to nuzzle at Geralt’s palm. 

“You are too soft, Jaskier.” They are old words - they had been hurled at him once, after a battle, when Jaskier had been struck with a blade and was bleeding from his side. Geralt had looked-- he held himself together, but only barely. Jaskier could see the franticness hiding beneath the surface. Here now they were said in almost-- wonder. 

Jaskier let out a stuttering breath, a half smile tugging at his lips. “I think I’m just right, really.” He murmured, and then paused - “Well, I probably ought to get a little better with a sword, but that’s something entirely possible. All in all, I’m pleasantly soft. It’s a good balance to you, no?” He asked it, holding his breath for a moment. 

Geralt shook his head at him, his lips tugging into a smile, one that didn’t stop there. It was a soft grin that allowed a few puffs of laughter to escape, a thumb sweeping over the musician’s cheekbone. 

“Hm.” Geralt didn’t give him words, didn’t need to when he leaned in and pressed that grin directly to Jaskier’s lips. 

+++

The next morning found Geralt calling out orders and helping load the ship up, his hair pulled back as usual. 

However, the leather tie had been-- not necessarily replaced. Geralt needed something sturdy to keep it back. The tie had been wrapped in something, though - a dark blue, almost royal, strip of silk had been fashioned into a careful bow around it. It was terribly charming, even more than he thought it would be, Jaskier thought as he observed the crew work from where he stood bleary eyed with his mandolin in hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics are from Téir Abhaile Riú by Celtic Woman! It's a bop, y'all.
> 
> Edit: my tumblr is also xdandelionxbloomx if y'all wanna come screech with me over the boys!


End file.
